Just Say Maybe: A Thistle Bend Novel

by Tracy March

  “Hopefully we’ll be doing this forever, but we’ll only have one first time.”

  His words played in her mind like a favorite song that she wanted to hear over and over. They’d had a perfect first time together. Her secret place had become their special place. Now she was eagerly awaiting their next time, and swooning over every memorable moment from last night.

  Even the eggs had been delicious.

  Holly pulled an outfit together—a nice pair of textured black leggings, a black camisole, and an empire-waist tunic made of brightly colored satiny fabrics, accented with knitted black lace. Boots, a bracelet, and some earrings polished her look. It was too fancy for the farmers market, but just right for meeting with Milly and Merri at the Princess. They were two of the best-dressed ladies in town, always prim and classy—even at the farmers market.

  A knock sounded on the door just as she spritzed her perfume in the air and walked through it—a trick her grandma had taught her to keep the scent light. She went to the door and opened it. Her heart did a backflip at the sight of Bryce looking fresh from a shower, handsome in a plaid button-up shirt with the sleeves turned up, nice jeans, and the cowboy boots he’d worn when he’d come to her office looking for H. G. Birdsong.

  He held a beautiful bouquet of mixed wildflowers and offered them to her. “They missed you.” He brushed a kiss on her lips. “Just like me.”

  Could he be more adorable?

  “Aw.” She took the bouquet, smiling, and stepped aside as he came in. “You got these from the riverbank?”

  “Yep.”

  “They look like a florist put them together.”

  That cute, crooked grin tugged at his lips. “Told you I’m a man of many talents.”

  She trailed her fingers down his forearm. “You’ve already convinced me of that.”

  “So the eggs were pretty good, too?”

  Holly laughed, stood on her tiptoes, and kissed him—a nice, long, thorough kiss. Before she got carried away doing all the other things she wanted to do to him again, she said, “I better put these in water.”

  She took the bouquet into the kitchen, which was open to the living and dining areas, ran water in a pretty quilted-glass vase, arranged the flowers, and set them in the middle of the kitchen island where she could see them from anywhere in the room. “Perfect.”

  “You’ve got a sweet setup here,” Bryce said. “I kinda thought it might look like a mom-and-dad house inside—considering this is your family home. But it really says Holly the second you walk in the door.”

  She’d taken her parents at their word, and treated the house as her own. Her television might be stuck on HGTV, for all she knew, because she hardly ever switched the channel. Fixer Upper was one of her favorite shows, and she’d modeled her décor after the hosts’ farmhouse—comfortable and cozy with a few sophisticated touches. Grays, taupe, and ivory for the basics, allowing her to switch up the accent color whenever the mood struck her. Right now it happened to be bright green.

  “Thanks.” Holly joined him near the door. She grazed her fingernails up and down his lower back. “I can’t wait to hear what the bedroom says.” She winked.

  “Me either.” He grinned. “But we’ve got some shopping to do and two little old ladies to meet.”

  They left the house and walked hand in hand along the three blocks to Larkspur Avenue, where one end of the street was blocked off for the farmers market. The morning was brisk and sunny, perfect for perusing all the goodies for sale beneath the white canopies lined up on both sides of the street. This year, they’d even added an arts market, where local craftsmen came to sell their wares. Lots of people milled about, and a long line had formed at one of the booths on the corner, trailing down the adjacent cross street.

  Holly pointed to the line. “Look at everyone in line at Milly and Merri’s booth—and the market will be closing in half an hour.”

  “Lindsey said they sell out every week.”

  Holly nodded. “Probably any minute now. We’ll have to catch them early sometime.” They strolled past vendors selling fruits and vegetables, baked goods, cheeses, and meats. She ignored the sidelong glances from the locals, their curious gazes on Bryce. They’d find out who he was soon enough—and she hoped once they did, things would go well for them both.

  Bryce tugged her toward a nearby booth. “Cottonwood Creek Winery. We should get another bottle from Roy. You seemed to like that Pinot Noir we shared on the deck at the lodge.”

  “I can’t believe you remembered his name,” Holly said lightly.

  Bryce stopped and faced her, setting his serious gaze on hers. “I remember you mentioning him, and that he drives here from Paonia every Sunday. But most of all I remember the wine.” He leaned in and whispered in her ear, “And how it tasted on your lips the first time I kissed you.”

  Holly feared she might melt into a puddle right there in the middle of the farmers market. Heat rushed into her face.

  Bryce stood straight, a sultry look in his eyes, his lips in a kiss-me pucker.

  “It was delicious,” she said. “Maybe we should buy several bottles.”

  They stepped over to Roy’s booth, where his wines were displayed on a high table with a white cloth. A loaf of homemade bread from the vendor down the way sat on a wooden cutting board in front of a display of bottles. Half of the loaf had been cut into bite-sized pieces to be eaten between tastings of each varietal.

  “He offers tastings?” Bryce asked.

  “Sure do,” Roy said.

  “Mornin’, Roy.” Holly ducked around the table and gave him a friendly hug. Middle-aged and medium-sized, his formerly brown hair had gone to salt-and-pepper over the years that Holly had known him. “I’d like you to meet Bryce.”

  The men shook hands.

  “Nice to meet you,” Bryce said. “Forgive me for being forward, but I already love your Pinot.”

  Holly stifled a smile and shook her head as Roy laughed.

  “Spoken like a man with impeccable taste,” Roy said. “Would that be Gris or Noir?”

  “Noir.” Bryce leaned down and surveyed the bottles on display. “Haven’t had the pleasure of the Gris.”

  “We can fix that right away.” Roy turned, pulled two glasses from a crate on a table behind him, and an opened bottle of wine from the adjacent cooler. He poured generous samples for Bryce and Holly.

  She swirled the wine in her glass, tipped it to Roy and then to Bryce, and took a sip. “Cool, crisp, and clearly perfect for summer picnics.” She took another sip.

  Roy looked at Bryce curiously.

  “What the pretty lady said.” Bryce pulled his wallet from his pocket. “We’ll take a Noir and a Gris.”

  Roy took Bryce’s payment and bagged the wine for them.

  “Thanks, man,” Bryce said. “Keep up the good grapes.”

  Roy smiled. “Will do.”

  “See you next week.” Holly waved as they walked away and nearly ran into her grandpa and Dean, both carrying a bag from one of the vendors. “Hey there,” she said, her heart warming as she gave each of them a hug.

  Her grandpa shook Bryce’s hand and gave him a friendly smile. “Fine job you did planting those carrot seedlings.”

  Bryce nodded. “Thanks to your instructions. Hope you get a bumper crop.”

  “Dean,” Holly said, “you remember Bryce.” Holly knew enough about the two older men’s friendship to be certain that her grandpa had told Dean about their day at the farm yesterday.

  Dean stood nearly a head shorter than Bryce, looking sheepish. “I think I owe you an apology.” Clearly uncomfortable, he extended his hand to Bryce. “I might’ve been a little too abrasive when we chatted the other night.”

  Bryce shook his hand without hesitation. “No worries. Can’t fault you for looking out for Fred.”

  Holly was happy to hear Dean’s apology to Bryce, and not surprised by Bryce’s gracious acceptance of it. She glanced down the street and noticed that the line had dispersed a
t Milly and Merri’s booth. The assistants who helped them on Sundays were packing the bins left empty from all their sales. Milly and Merri were nowhere in sight. She stole a glance at her watch. “Sorry, but we’ve got to run,” she said to her grandpa and Dean. “We’re meeting Lindsey at the Princess in a few minutes.”

  “And the Montgomery sisters,” Dean said.

  She turned to Bryce and shrugged. “Everyone knows everything in Thistle Bend.”

  He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

  “We saw Lindsey,” her grandpa said. “She told us how excited Milly and Merri are to meet Bryce.”

  Dean nudged Bryce’s elbow. “Watch out for those two little ladies. They’re sweet enough, but I swear they can see right through you. Like they know what you’re thinking before you even know yourself.”

  Chapter 17

  Bryce’s chest tightened as he and Holly walked up Larkspur Avenue toward the Princess, but he didn’t want to let on to Holly how apprehensive he was about meeting the Montgomery sisters. If they had no information for him, what was his next step? Go ahead with the inspections and let the rumors start rumbling after the inspectors found the suite? Then he could read about it in the Thistle Bend newspaper, as if he hadn’t had his fill of those for a while.

  “You know these ladies pretty well, right?” he asked.

  Holly nodded. “But not nearly as well as Lindsey. She got close to them soon after she came to town—mostly because of the museum, but also because they were doing a little matchmaking between her and Carden. For years, he’s helped them keep up their huge Victorian house and all the grounds they have near Narrowleaf Pass. They’re kind of like his fairy godmothers.”

  “You make them sound enchanting. Dean has me thinking they’re bewitched—and that’s kind of a stretch for me.”

  Holly raised her shoulders. “They might be a little of both. But one thing’s for sure, everyone has their opinion, even though only a small group of people know them beyond seeing them at the farmers market. Getting invited to have drinks with them is a big deal. Lindsey hooked you up. Now you’ll get to decide what you think of them.”

  Meeting them was important to Bryce, yet he hadn’t known how unusual it was to be invited to socialize with the Montgomery sisters. As much as he’d rather ask them his questions in private, he was grateful that Lindsey had been willing to make the introductions. Holly had told her, in confidence, about the suite at the lodge, requesting that Lindsey share the information only with Carden. At least he didn’t have to worry about Lindsey asking too many questions of her own.

  “Is Lindsey bringing Carden with her?” he asked. It seemed as if she would, considering how Holly portrayed the Montgomery sisters’ relationship with him.

  Holly shook her head. “She said that he won’t be back from Denver until tonight. He goes there to visit his parents, and for business.”

  Bryce narrowed his eyes. “What kind of business?” All he’d heard was that Carden delivered manure and kept up the Montgomery sisters’ house and grounds. His grandmother was considered royalty in Thistle Bend, he had a knockout girlfriend, and Holly had called him a superhero.

  “Carden is the executive director of the Crenshaw Family Trust,” Holly said. “His dad is the attorney for the trust, and they actively designate land for conservancy, identify and sponsor philanthropic opportunities, and manage their diverse portfolio of assets, which includes ranches, mines, and a vast amount of property.”

  “Whoa.” Bryce squeezed her hand. “You just went all lawyer on me, H. G. Birdsong. That’s pretty sexy.”

  She grinned.

  “But Carden delivers manure and works on the Montgomery sisters’ house and land, right?”

  “Yep. He owns a cattle ranch and he loves to help people out doing handyman work around town—especially older folks. He has a big job with the ranch and the trust, but he’s always been down-to-earth and generous. If he doesn’t have time to get things done, he’ll send someone on his staff—gratis. Although I believe he does most of the work for the Montgomery sisters himself.”

  Bryce decided he was going to like Carden Crenshaw. In the future, maybe he could give back to the townspeople in a different way, with something like an adventure sports/community service program for local teens.

  Holly nudged him to the right. “Here’s the Princess.”

  Painted light gray with purple trim, the building was another of the Western-movie-set-style structures along the avenue. Flat-fronted with one pointed gable atop its façade, a lighted wooden arch swept beneath it from one side of the second floor to the other. The front of the first floor was all large-paned glass surrounding a recessed door. At the side of the building, a decorative wrought-iron fence ran along the sidewalk, a shaded garden-style patio area beyond.

  “Fancy,” Bryce said.

  “It used to be a theater back in the day. I’m talking 1918, when silent movies were popular. It’s been renovated a few times since then.”

  They stepped inside the Princess, where lots of natural light illuminated a beautiful bar that stretched along the wall of one side of the building. High and low tables accommodated diners and drinkers, seemingly enjoying the upscale, laid-back atmosphere. Bryce didn’t see Lindsey or two little old ladies among them.

  “They’re probably outside,” Holly said, as if she’d read his mind. “The Princess’s whimsical garden is the best place for Bloody Marys on a beautiful day.”

  Outside was good. Bryce was always more comfortable there.

  Holly led him out a side door into the shady dining area, alive with vivid green plants, colorful flowers, quirky statuary, and twirly garden ornaments. Wind chimes trilled in the light breeze.

  “There they are.” Holly gestured to a round table made of light wood nestled in an alcove created by the large trunks of two trees.

  Bryce’s pulse picked up pace and he chastised himself for getting so amped over meeting two little old ladies.

  Who might have the answers I’m looking for.

  They all stood as Bryce and Holly approached, and he immediately noticed that people hadn’t exaggerated when they’d called the Montgomery sisters little. Tiny was more like it, and they definitely had some age on them. Even so, they were hands down the cutest old ladies Bryce had ever seen.

  Bright-eyed and curious, they seemed more like sprites or pixies in this FernGully setting. They watched him in a way he could almost feel as he and Holly walked toward them. He was already starting to understand what Dean had said about them.

  “Watch out for those two little ladies. They’re sweet enough, but I swear they can see right through you. Like they know what you’re thinking before you even know yourself.”

  Lindsey greeted Holly and Bryce, and Holly gave each sister a kiss on the cheek. Then all eyes turned to him.

  “You must be Bryce,” the smaller of the two ladies said, examining him closely. Blue eyes twinkled in her heart-shaped face, the bones of her cheeks high and round. Her white hair was pulled back into a perfect bun that sat neatly at the nape of her neck. She wore a simple, satiny, bright blue tea-length dress and shiny patent-leather shoes. An antique silver watch glimmered on her wrist as she extended her age-spotted hand.

  He took it in both of his, amazed by the strength of her grip. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I’m Merribelle Montgomery,” she said with a smile tugging at her pink lips. “I’d love it if you’d call me Merri.” She rested her hand on the other little lady’s shoulder. “And this is my sister, Millicent.”

  “Please call me Milly.” She shook Bryce’s hand, looking adorable in her light green lace dress that was only a shade lighter than her eyes. Her hair curled in silver ringlets, and two jeweled combs held it away from her apple-cheeked face.

  “Pleasure to meet you both,” Bryce said. “Thank you for agreeing to meet me.”

  “When Lindsey told us about you,” Merri said, “we were eager for the chance. It’s not every day that a young man li
ke you comes to Thistle Bend.”

  Bryce would’ve loved to know what she’d meant by “a young man like you,” but he wasn’t about to ask.

  “And it’s not every day I get to have drinks with four beautiful ladies,” he said, his tone casual, yet sincere.

  The sisters smiled coquettishly at his compliment.

  “We ordered Bloody Marys for everyone,” Lindsey said.

  Bryce hoped the server would deliver them fast, because he could really use one to ease his nerves.

  They all took a seat, with Bryce between Holly and Merri, Milly at her sister’s side. No sooner had they settled than the server showed up with the drinks, set one in front of each of them, and left the table.

  Merri lifted her glass. “Here’s to new friends.”

  Holly gave him a sidelong glance and a wisp of a smile as they toasted and drank. Having her next to him was making this a little less stressful.

  “Looks like you had quite a morning at the market,” Holly said to Milly and Merri. “I don’t know how you keep up with it all—preparing for Sundays, and fulfilling orders for your Internet business.”

  Bryce appreciated Holly making the small talk because all he could think about were his questions.

  “We’re even busier this season than last,” Merri said.

  “The line of people—oh my.” Milly pressed her fingers to her lips.

  Bryce grinned.

  “And our Internet business has grown to bursting over the last eight months, too.” Merri smiled proudly. “Demand has more than doubled.”

  Bryce could hardly believe these little old pixie ladies ran an Internet business.

  Milly and Merri glanced at each other as if they shared a secret.

  “But help is on the way.” Milly set her gaze on Holly. “Ellie London has moved back to Thistle Bend, as you know. She’s going to live in the little guesthouse on our property and help us in the kitchen and garden.”

  Holly’s eyes widened. “That’ll be a perfect setup for all of you. I saw her at Calypso Coffee the other day, but she didn’t say a word to me about it.”